Death's Angel, Part 4:
Reading sections one and two is advisable to comprehend the storyline.
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Helga was tied to a medical chair, only semi-conscious, breathing heavily.
The medical staff had inserted IV lines into her brain and spinal cord, with bags of iodine-infused fluids hanging from the ceiling. The brutality of the surgery was visible to anyone who entered the room.
Nobody had bothered to remove the pile of feces on the chair between her legs or assist her in passing the other pile protruding from her anus.
Admiral von Heidelberg was sitting in front of her, caressing her head.
"Oh my beautiful Helga, you're so brave," he whispered.
There wasn't any time for subtlety. Both resources and time were dwindling. They didn't know how long they'd have electricity for.
"Clean her up and have her stand; we need to inject the virus and prepare her for embalming," the top scientist ordered.
A nurse inserted a finger into Helga's anus and pushed out the remaining feces. After inserting three glycerin suppositories, she patted the patient's backside, indicating the task was done.
The anesthetic gas was turned down, and Helga gradually returned to consciousness. Her head and spine throbbed unbearably. Her head spun rapidly.
"Oh, father, I feel ill," was all she could say as she vomited into the oxygen mask.
Helga was untied from the chair and made to squat down and stand. The doctors held the IV drips above her head. Two nurses supported her.
"Helga, you're doing great. A quick cleanse and we'll move on to the last step. There won't be any pain after that!" said a different doctor.
She was loaded into a wheelchair and wheeled into the next room. It was as cold and damp as the previous room, with gray-green tiles from wall to ceiling, but significantly larger. A menacing arrangement of machines with glass tanks, long rubber tubes, and devices surrounded a massive metal frame.
The nearly naked girl was helped up from the wheelchair and guided to the frame.
"What is this?" she asked, bewildered, taking in the appearance of what looked like a medieval torture device.
"It's comfortable and will support you in all the right places. It can be rotated on all axes to allow access to your body from all angles," the lead scientist explained. "We need to act quickly after the Zombie virus is injected, to prevent your body from decaying and the virus from taking complete control. You'll need to be embalmed,"
"Embalmed?" this term was new to her.
"Yes, Helga. Your body will die and start decomposing. We're not turning you into a rotting walking corpse, like old mummies from the Himalayas. Instead, you'll be immortal, ever young, and capable of surviving the harshest conditions—the ultimate soldier!"
The device was constructed of metal tubing, resembling a model of an atom with the human subject bound in the center. The base was substantial and bolted to the floor. The floor had channels for liquids to drain away. The nude, shivering girl was aided in climbing on. Her head, arms, feet, and thighs rested on small padded seats. There was no support for her butt or spine. She sat with one foot on each side, arms spread out wide. The position was both erotic and humiliating but gave access to all orifices.
A separate stand was wheeled in, and the lines and bags connected to her brain and spine were hung from it.
Her father stood back, observing the horrific sight of his daughter powerlessly restrained.
"Aaah," moaned Helga as a nurse fiddled with her spinal lines.
"Doctor, does she need to have these lines all the time?" he asked.
"Yes, Admiral," the doctor clarified. "They keep her brain and spinal cord oxygenated and free of the Zombie virus. However, not in this arrangement. After the procedure, she'll have an in-built doping and oxygenation system in her special suit, which needs recharging only once a week. We don't expect the mission to last more than three days."
Helga glanced up and observed the high ceiling. It was much larger than her current room, and she wasn't able to see its top. Suddenly, the bright spotlights illuminating her and the doctors flickered and went out, and she noticed a dimly lit balcony far above, with silhouetted figures watching her agonizing transformation. They must be the top Generals and Admirals she had met several days before.
Another person said, "It's alright, it's all washed away."
Helga clung on as best she could. More disturbing machines with tanks and pipes appeared near her.
The frame was moved backwards, placing her in a semi-sitting position.
"Now, we're about to insert a few tubes. One into your lungs and one into your stomach. Stay calm!"
The tubes were thick rubber ones with little give. The nasal tube was a torturous experience as it was put into her windpipe. "AAAH!" she cried out, her throat burning, tears flowed from her eyes, and her bowels emptied angrily, splashing the nurses in front of her. Fortunately, their heavy rubber aprons protected them from the worst!
Next, the throat tube. Helga's mouth was widened with a metal clamp, and the large, quarter-inch rubber tube was forced in with such force that she evacuated both her bladder and bowels. Her father stared, his fists clenched. There was nothing he could do. It was necessary for his country.
Cold water and disinfectant was hosed onto her private parts. Helga shivered as she was roughly cleaned. The nurse even injected close to a gallon of soapy water into her anus and another quart into her vagina, which Helga had to release after holding it in for five minutes. At least these fluids were warm.
Then, the frame was rotated 180 degrees forward to bring her head down and her backside up in the air.
Helga's face was only a couple of feet from the floor, where she watched her own waste being hosed away into a drain. The contents of her stomach flowed out unhindered through the tube.
Now, the doctors inserted two more large rubber hoses. One into her anus and one into her vagina. The vaginal tube went deep in, as far as her cervix. Built-in balloons were inflated. A third, thinner tube was inserted into her urethra. It hurt like hell. All tubes were connected to the ominous-looking machines except the urinary catheter, which was left to trickle onto the floor.
Now, she was rotated back to a seated position.
"Helga, we're about to tap your blood circulation system," said the chief surgeon.
The restrained and intubated girl began to wriggle in fear, her eyes wide, no amount of military training had prepared her for this torture. She thought the virus would just be an injection and nothing more. They were keeping it a suicide mission, but she was caught completely off guard as to the ordeal she had to endure in turning into a zombie soldier.
Helga looked at some of the machines next to her. They had long tubes with large hypodermic needles. Larger than she had ever encountered before.
But fortunately, a topical anesthetic was applied to her neck, chest, abdomen, and inner thigh before large needles with orange rubber tubes were inserted into her arteries.
One extra large needle was inserted through her navel into her abdominal cavity.
All were secured with special leather straps and a neck brace.
All tubes were connected to embalming machines filled with various liquids, some transparent, some pink and some blue or green.
It was a frightening and erotic sight to see the naked girl so obscenely constrained under bright lights with tubes down her nose, mouth, pussy, anus, and neck, thighs, and abdomen.
"Now, Helga, is there any pain?" asked the chief surgeon.
"One finger for yes. Two fingers for no," he said.
Helga showed two fingers. She was uncomfortable, and her head felt heavy, but surprisingly there was no pain despite the faint pricks of the needles tapping her arteries.
"Helga, we're almost done. We need to inject your eyes with iodine to protect them. These needles are very thin and won't hurt. Your vision will temporarily be blurry,"
A small optical device resembling a pair of binoculars was positioned a foot or so above her head on the metal frame.
"Look into the lenses. focus on the red lights within," said one doctor.
As she looked, nurses inserted clamps into her eyes and pried them open. She couldn't blink. The frame was tilted back and numbing eye drops were applied. "Stay still, please," said the doctor.
Helga didn't see the needles of the small syringes enter her eyeballs sideways. Her vision went hazy, and her eyes felt cold.
"Now don't worry, your vision will return in a few hours. We're ready to inject the virus. Please leave the lab."
Helga's vision became a bit clearer. She saw her father's silhouette walking backwards and disappearing.
Several minutes later, a door on the side opened and the group entered, pushing a large, lead-lined trolley. They were all dressed in thick, heavy rubber gear from head to toe and wore large gas masks with long hoses connected to portable breathing stations on wheels. Their breathing through the masks sent chills down Helga's spine.
The trolley's top opened, and white smoke billowed out from the liquid nitrogen-cooled interior. A nurse pulled out a large glass syringe filled with a murky greenish liquid. The needle was thick and nearly 8 inches long. Helga watched in amazement.
No one spoke as the doctor approached her.
"Close your eyes," a nurse whispered in her ear gently.
As she did, the doctor jabbed the long needle through her ribcage straight into her heart. Helga's eyes flew open as the cold liquid filled her heart and spread through her veins. Panicked, she fought against their grip with all her might as she experienced her body cooling down, lungs failing, and heart spasming.
Her mind was awake, but her body was dying! Her heart gave a few more desperate beats and stopped. Her life flashed in front of her, and her whole body went into spasms like a fish out of water. Suddenly, it was over. It was like she was a pair of floating eyeballs. Sounds became distant as her body became numb. Helga's body was dead.
As soon as her heart stopped, the embalmers began their process.
The machines were activated, and her blood started to drain out, replaced with a mixture of glycerin, arsenic, and formaldehyde.
Her body shook internally as her nerves fired randomly. She could still feel her frame, but it was numb and twisted. Her stomach contents were pumped out and replaced with a strong solution of formaldehyde. So were her lungs.
Next, she was turned facedown, and her colon, vagina, and bladder were filled with a gel consisting of glycerin, formaldehyde, and a complex combination of chemicals to stop decay but maintain flexibility.
Her abdominal cavity was also filled with the same mixture. Doctors used long needles to inject embalming fluids into her liver and kidneys, as well as her breasts, buttocks, and limbs. Nurses massaged her body as the machines continued pumping and the doctors continued injecting various chemicals.
Larger syringes injected fluids into her kidneys while slender needles treated her head and face. The goal was to replace all the water in her body (except her brain, eyes, and spinal cord) with specially formulated chemicals to preserve her body.
A glycerin-based gel was massaged into her skin to maintain her skin's moisture and flexibility. The formulas were perfected to keep the skin supple after death.
Finally, her tubes were removed and her orifices were sealed off. A special gel was injected into her oral cavity while metal braces with screws were drilled into her gums to keep her jaws shut permanently. Then, a strong adhesive was applied to her teeth and inner lips before they were stitched up.
Long rubber plugs were inserted into her anus and vagina to hold the embalming fluid inside, and the same fluid was injected into her bladder. The doctors then deflated the catheter balloon and pulled the tube halfway out. A silicone cement was injected while the rest of the catheter was pulled out, effectively sealing her urethra forever.
The doctors then glued and sewed shut her anus before placing her back on her back and positioning her crotch up in the air.
Doctors applied adhesive into her inner labia and pinched the opening together before sewing it shut to prevent any leakage of precious chemicals.
The needles used for her veins were removed, and plugs were inserted with more silicone cement and sutured shut. Each location received a thick leather belt to support the plug. This was important as the one major drawback of being a zombie is that there's no growth if the body is damaged.
"Move your fingers," a doctor ordered.
Helga tried, but it felt like she was controlling a puppet. She moved her head, and it was as if she was watching a movie. It wasn't real. She was no longer breathing. Her heart no longer beat. It was an out-of-body experience.
There was no time to think as the doctors inserted protective lenses into her eyes and glued them in place to keep them safe from the harsh chemicals. They removed the restraints, and the lifeless Helga was lifted off the frame and placed on a trolley before being wheeled out.
From the frame came a lively woman - big-breasted, athletic, with pink cheeks and a radiant complexion. What emerged from the trolley was a gray corpse, with its orifices sewn shut.
While being pushed along the corridor, Helga tried to sit up. She could sense pressure but no heat or cold. Her entire body was numb.
They entered a smaller space with a large metal ball in the center. This ball was filled with a liquid and radiated brightly. Portholes were present on its sides. This was a hyperbaric chamber, the last stage of Helga's embalming.
The staff helped Helga stand up.
"Take it easy. Try to walk," the doctor suggested.
Helga observed her pale white body and attempted to move her legs. She could move them, but there was no coordination. She fell, needing support from the team.
"You require rehabilitation. However, we need to complete the infusion first," said the lead surgeon.
A gondola was connected to a crane on the ceiling. Helga was carried like a baby onto the gondola and lifted above the tank. The doctor and three nurses joined her.
On a platform at the top was a new contraption. It was a towering oxygen container with other three smaller cylinders linked by tubes to a metal ball containing various dials. Three tubes emerged from the ball.
The lifeless girl was laid on her stomach and the IV lines from her brain and spine were pulled out. These lines were replaced by those from the metal ball.
"Can you hear me, Helga?" inquired the doctor.
She gave a thumbs up sign to confirm.
"We're inserting you into the hyperbaric chamber now. You'll stay in there for a week, enduring high and low pressures to extract all the air and water from your body. We'll communicate with you and you must try to exercise your limbs as instructed," said the lead surgeon.
She gave a thumbs up sign. There was nothing else for her to do but to follow directions.
Afterward, her oxygenation apparatus was carefully put inside the container.
A strong nurse then lifted the helpless girl by the feet and lowered them into the liquid.
Helga began sinking down but didn't get to the bottom. She was stuck floating in the middle of the bath. The cover was sealed by a large wheel turned by two strong assistants, as well as many more heavy bolts encircling the lid.
The staff returned to the ground, and the lead doctor sat behind a control panel with a microphone.
"Helga, we're about to start the cycle," announced the doctor. "It will be uncomfortable for your ears and head, but don't worry - nothing can kill you."
"One more dead girl in the mix!" she internally remarked. At least the chamber was well-lit.
A siren sounded, and the process began, essentially cooking the new zombie girl in a pressure cooker.
to be continued...
Read also:
- Criminally-Tuned Rhythm Chapter 1
- Functional Defect 3
- Chapter 3: The Altered Text
- Dancing With Mom: Chapter Two
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